The Seven not so Deadly Sins
by Megan McAlistair
Summary: This is a short fic about the little sins our favourite superhero team indulges in when they have some time to spare. Because in the end they're all just hum- ...err. None of them is a robot.
1. Child Prodigy

A/N: this is just a little silly thing I thought of after I read on tvtropes that every seven-man-group gets shoehorned into the seven deadly sins sooner or later

I won't tell you which sin is which, but it shouldn't be too hard to find out

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><p>Flash was having a lazy day.<p>

Not just lazy compared to how he usually was, or to how life of a superhero went, or even to how the day of an average person went, no, he was being lazy by all standards.

In fact he was lying on his couch, eating grapes and listening to some random radio channel because he had been too lazy to actually search for one.

He had set his alarm clock for eight o'clock the next morning and until then he was just going to slack off.

He may have been the fastest man alive but he took the time to stare mindlessly at each individual grape at least for a minute before he actually ate it. It just took that long for his brain to realize that he was holding food, but it was alright, that was part of having a slow day: being slow.

"And now from the cute Lan Feng, who is only six years old, Für Elise", said the radio.

Soft tunes filled the room.

_What was that instrument again? The one with the many keys?_

Flash thought for a moment.

_An organ? No, that was the one with the pipes on top._

He thought for another moment, but then he decided not to bother.

The fate of the world didn't depend on the question which instrument that whacky German had written his piece on.

…

_Or maybe he was Dutch..._

Those languages all sounded the same to him after all.


	2. Inside and Outside

A walk in the park was really a nice thing to do. The grass was green, the sky was blue and the air was fresh. But today there was not one but two things overshadowing the beauty of nature.

The first and foremost was leaning on his shoulder, smiling contently while watching the small fish swim in the river underneath them. Hui Zhong loved this little bridge.

The second and lesser was in his hands, crackling occasionally when he pulled another cookie from it.

_Ebony and Ivory live together in perfect harmony._

He heard his wife hum in her head. He had been surprised to learn that she was a die-hard Beatles fan, very surprised.

_That's not what the song is about, but it surely fits you._

He looked at the black and white cookie in his hand and smiled.

_You know me too well._

_So well that all my friends say I have become addicted._

He chuckled a bit and ate the cookie.

J'onn liked to imagine that all the passersby thought of them as crazy, not speaking a word but still seemingly talking to each other.

Hui Zhong liked to imagine that the park and this little bridge were illustrations for the cover of the exotic romance novel that told their story.

He looked down when his hand couldn't find anything but plastic. Hui Zhong smiled and pulled another bag of Chocos from her purse.

_You read my mind._

_No, baobei, that's your job._


	3. And they knew her

The mess hall was big, there were a lot of superheroes here, but with the weird hours she was working at the moment Shayera just couldn't find a friendly face.

She had seen most of them before, in the halls, in the gym, but she had never talked to any of them.

_Looks like it's time for a little Russian Roulette._

She sighed and picked a random table, only occupied by an Indian-looking woman. "Mind if I sit here?", she asked. The woman smiled brightly and pointed at the chair. "Not at all, make yourself comfortable", was the answer she got.

For a while they sat and ate in silence. It was comfortable enough, but then the woman spoke up. "What's bothering you?", she asked. Shayera looked up. "You're not psychic, are you?", she raised an eyebrow. Her lunch mate chuckled. "No, no, I'm not. It's just that you've spend the whole meal glaring at your mashed potatoes like they ran over your cat. You can call me Dira by the way", she gave a little wave. "Hello Dira. And, yes, there is something, but I don't want to bother you with it", she poked at her steak. "We all need to let off some steam sometimes. I happen to be rather steam-proof. So bother away", she opened her arms.

Shayera looked at her for a long time, then sighed.

"It's just that… J'onn can shapeshift, Flash and Batman just take off their masks, Superman and John just put on a pair of glasses and Diana just abandons her crown and skimpy outfit. But I… I always have these wings. I can't go down there and mingle like the others do. It's like I'm trapped here", she looked at the windows that held back the unforgiving coldness of space.

"That is one hell of a problem. You could try playing the piano", Dira advised her.

Shayera raised an eyebrow. "How would that solve anything?", she asked.

"It wouldn't, but it always helps me forget my worries", Dira chuckled again.

Shayera smiled. "I'll try that", she promised, "And who knows, maybe a solution will come up, then I won't be the only one left behind anymore."


	4. Brainchild

The watchtower was an astounding piece of technology.

The computers were the world's finest and had recently been enhanced by the resident extraterrestrial, nothing within ten light-years could match them.

The outer face was covered in the latest discoveries of nanotechnology and metallurgy, electrically reinforced it was able to withstand not only the cold of space but also the various space-debris that hit it on a daily basis.

The windows were made from special carbon fibers that were hard and flexible enough to withstand most accidents the superpowered visitors could produce but still allowed enough light through to give one the feeling there was nothing there at all.

The interior had been custom designed to give any passerby the right feeling at the right time. A state of constant alertness for the control room. A subtle comfort in the mess hall and personal areas.

But not only the station itself, but also its personnel were topnotch. Every technician and member of security had been trained in not only self-defense but also crisis-management and mediation. They could handle themselves well in any situation.

All those components had a part in holding up what had been the status quo for quite some time now.

Monitoring the station's stable orbit on one screen while checking a new security protocol on another, the man identified by his nametag as "Harriman" furrowed his brow.

With his posture made to prevent muscle hardening and his fingers dancing over the keyboard like those of a pianist he radiated an aura of competence.

Almost everyone did around here. Everything and everyone worked together perfectly like a well-oiled machine, ready to withstand any disaster.

Batman smiled.


	5. Cat of Prey

A/N: some of you (or none of you, depending on how right I am) may have been wondering why my updates are so far in between, well there doesn't seem to be anyone reading this (no reviews since the first chapter) so I feel no obligation to hurry; there are so many things one could comment on: whether or not the characters were in-character, any typos or grammar mistakes you spotted, which sin you think the chapter is covering, stuff like that. But that's just me, I just work faster when I know there are people waiting for it

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><p>Paris, the city of love. Lucky for John it was also a city of fashion.<p>

Two birds one stone.

Even luckier for John Mari was having her special days so when she had asked him to come to Paris with her for the job he hadn't said no.

They were standing by the window of their hotel room, arm in arm. "I want something like that for my loft, too", Mari said, out of the blue.

"What, track blinds?", John raised an eyebrow.

"The Eiffel Tower", she replied. John chuckled and leaned closer to her ear.

"J'ai une Tour Eiffel dans mes pantalons", he whispered.

Mari opened her mouth as if to say something but only ended up smiling suggestively.

"As much as I love the sight of Paris… why don't we close those blinds for a while and get more into the… spirit of things", John suggested.

"Let me just slip into something more comfortable", she let go of him and made an effort to walk slowly, so he could admire her a little from behind.

When she was out of sight he turned around again to close the blinds, throwing one last glance at the little piano shop across the street.

_I don't need to play the piano to get my woman._

As he set up the music and hung a "Prière de ne pas déranger" sign on the door he smiled about the fact that she knew how to play him. The anticipation was almost too much to bear.

The door opened again and licking his lips John had his last rational thought:

_How could she refer to what she is wearing as _comfortable_?_


	6. I will give you the world

Diana felt like a princess.

Sure, she _was_ a princess but she had found that the reality of men's world had very little to do with facts and reason.

Everything around her was shining, gleaming and glittering and everyone wore a smile. This was a protected place, where the worries of the world didn't reach, where she could enjoy the knowledge that somewhere peace and beauty were truths, too.

Bruce had sent her here to buy herself some jewellery with the excuse that she had a lot of public relations coming up and "important people like to wear their power". After which he had given her his credit card and told her to get mad.

If this was what madness felt like then she'd go crazy more often. "Now I guess you're not the pompous type, no, we'll need something more sophisticated… filigree", Belinda cocked her head and looked at Diana again, contemplating.

The bell over the door rang softly, a man and his little daughter, she couldn't be more than five years old, entered.

"I believe I've got just the thing, one moment", the brunette excused herself and went looking for something.

Diana smirked, she knew choosing would be very hard, all these necklaces and bracelets were so lovely, she'd rather like to have them all.

"I want all of them", the little girl exclaimed, sharing the Amazon's sentiment.

"Oh sweetie, we only need one for your mother's birthday", the father ruffled her hair.

"But they're all so pretty", she was pouting now.

"I know, I can't decide either", he sighed, kneeling down to look at another case.

Belinda came back with a flat blue box in her hands. "Now this is something I have been saving for someone special, but I would love to see it on you, you are so beautiful", she smiled brightly and set the box down on the glass case next to her. "Now, please turn to the mirror and hold up your hair", she instructed me. I did as told and suddenly I had a wonderful view of the small family in the mirror.

"Look, dad, this one's shaped like a piano", the little girl grinned widely, her father chuckled.

"But Talisha, that's a violin", he lovingly corrected her.

Diana didn't know how, but this little girl was outshining every jewel in this store, drowning out the sparkling like an irritating background noise and not even noticing it.

Diana watched Talisha and her father argue about instruments and suddenly her heart grew heavy.

"So… what do you think?", Belinda asked, obviously after a long time of waiting.

She looked at what she was wearing now, the necklace was indeed filigree, with gold and diamonds, but it couldn't hold her attention and soon she found her gaze wandering back to that small wonder behind her.

A sad smiled tugged at her lips.

"It's perfect… just perfect."


	7. Who is like God?

Clark Kent was the pinnacle of innocent.

Sitting there in front of his computer, typing that article on the mysterious reverse-robber who put things back where they belonged instead of stealing anything, he was like an angel.

Lois sighed, smiling, leaning against his desk.

"You really can't keep a grudge, can you?", she raised an eyebrow.

"Lois, you know that wouldn't change anything, so why bother?", he looked up at her, a soft but sad smile on his lips.

"I mean... Clarence just stole that story right from you, didn't even bother pretending he got it himself, he outright _admitted_ that it was yours, yet you just sit here, taking the second-rate small-time story and... I don't know how you do it, I'd hate the guy", she threw her hands up and sighed again.

"Hate only begets more hate", he mused, running a spell-check. He frowned as his "piano" got corrected to "pinto".

"Yeah, well-", she was cut off by a short yell of surprise, coming from Clarence's cubicle.

"What the...? No! My files, they're... Nonononononononooo!", came the vocalised desperation.

Clark smirked.

"And while I am all against hate, there's nothing wrong with a little bit of payback."


End file.
